


Tune As Old As Song

by profound-boning (farawaystardust)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Disney Fusion, Alternate Universe - Historical, Alternate Universe - Regency, Beauty and the Beast fusion, Canonical Character Death, Creature Castiel, Creature Dean, Creature Sam, Deaf Character, Everyone except Eileen is an inanimate object, F/M, Gender or Sex Swap, Love Confessions, M/M, Magic, Misunderstandings, Mutual Pining, POV Castiel, Temporary Character Death, True Love, i guess?, it's beauty and the beast y'all know this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-18
Updated: 2017-09-18
Packaged: 2018-12-31 08:53:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,610
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12128931
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/farawaystardust/pseuds/profound-boning
Summary: “Cas, did you hear?” Dean hisses, none too quietly.“My, did it have something to do with you screeching ‘girl’ when you ran into me a moment ago?”Dean rolls his eyes. “C’mon. You’re the eyes and ears of this whole place. Tell me you’ve seen the girl. Where has she gone?”“Well considering the deal she’s struck with Sam, she’s likely in her rooms, extremely upset. Don’t you go making it—” Dean’s already run off. “—worse.”





	Tune As Old As Song

**Author's Note:**

> Requested by [kat](http://punkascas.tumblr.com/) who won the Crop Top Award for best tags in my [joint tumblr awards](http://profound-boning.tumblr.com/post/160325282524/) this past spring! She has waited very patiently, so I hope that this lives up to her expectations.

His problems started long before the curse did. Truly, Castiel has been a cursed man for years. It’s only different now because he’s a damned clock with a hopeless crush rather than a very human butler of the Winchester estate with a hopeless crush.

Granted, his position as butler has not much changed, except that now he is in charge of several anthropomorphic pieces of furniture rather than a real staff and real Winchester family. Castiel has more duties now than he did then, primarily because the steward of the house, Robert Singer, has been confined to the kitchen due to his changed state as an enormous stove.

Their new realities came about one dark winter’s night. Castiel tries not to dwell on it too much, but other members of the household seem intent on keeping the tale alive.

John Winchester had just recently followed his beloved wife Mary to the grave. It was a peaceful passing, though still emotional for John’s two grown sons. Dean, as eldest, was now the head of the estate and fully prepared to take on the burdens of such a role. Per their father’s wishes, he was hosting his first dinner party as the new lord of the estate. Robert and Castiel, as well as the housekeeper Mrs. Braeden, ensured that the event was running smoothly and everything seemed perfect.

Until a haggard old woman appeared in their midst. To this day, the whole staff will swear up and down that they didn’t permit her entry, and it was solely by magic that she entered the ballroom. Dean had been quite uneasy and made his way quickly across the room to Castiel’s side.

“What on Earth is this,” he’d hissed.

“I assure you sir that I do not know,” Castiel had told him. “I shall go and find Misters Singer and Lafitte and—”

Whatever Castiel had intended to do would never come to be. Instead, Sam Winchester, a hot-headed young man, strode up to the old woman and demanded to know why she had interrupted their evening.

“Please, sir,” she mumbled, holding up a lovely red rose. Sam had only sneered at her.

“How dare you burst in on Dean’s party! Just to offer a rose? Get out of here!”

In a burst of golden light, the woman rose, taller and taller still than a normal woman. Her appearance completely changed to that of someone regal and powerful.

“Silence!” she cried, freezing Dean and anyone else who’d tried to approach. “Samuel Winchester your insolence insults me. You should know better than to be cruel to a sad, old woman.”

“My lady.” Castiel can still recall the way Sam’s bottom lip had trembled. The boy was only twelve years old. “I just—. This is a very important evening, and I—”

The sorceress had only shouted once more for silence. “You’re a fool,” she said. “A heartless wretch. And for this, your entire household shall suffer.” At this, she’d held up the rose again, glowing gold as she. “By the time the last petal falls from this rose, on the eve of your twenty-fifth birthday, if you have not yet learned to love another, your curse shall remain.”

And Dean, brave and brilliant Dean, and had run to place himself between the Enchantress and his brother.

“No!” he’d cried. “Please! You can’t—. Sam’s just a boy.”

“Cruel boys become cruel men,” she intoned, looking down her nose at Dean. “Unless you can help him see the error of his ways, you too will be cursed evermore.”

The golden glow of her magic expanded, covered the entire estate. Castiel can only recall a blinding heat, searing his very bones, before waking up on the floor of the ballroom. Her spell had been cast. Any villager present in their home at the time had been cast out, had surely woken in their beds with no memory of what had transpired—this is the conclusion they’d reached after it became obvious the villagers knew nothing of the Winchester estate, only came now to look upon its beauty and speculate about what became of the old house. The servants could do nothing to inform them, probably as part of the curse—the household staff as well as Dean had been transformed into a variety of household objects, all apparently able to survive without food, water, or trips to the washroom, all functioning perfectly even after so many years, despite any damage to their new bodies.

And really, it is Sam who has suffered the most. The sorceress had transformed him into a great beast. Speculations (well out of Sam’s or Dean’s range of hearing) got the staff nowhere; they could only guess that she had chosen parts of a variety of large predators. Wolf’s legs, claws from an eagle, enormous shoulders like a bison, a ram’s curved horns, his face disfigured, with huge canine teeth. In his more vulnerable moments, Castiel can still see Sam’s eyes, the same as ever. With each year, they grow more sad and angry and desolate.

By contrast, Dean has never, ever given up hope that the curse will be broken. He is not alone in the assertion that Sam Winchester doesn’t have a cruel bone in his body. The witch was wrong, Dean will say over and over again to his miserable younger brother, the candlelight of his head and hands bringing warmth to Sam’s bedchambers. And they’re going to fix this.

They have to fix this.

:     :     :     :     :

“A girl! A girl!”

Castiel wheezes and shoves Dean’s metal body off of himself. Glaring, he awkwardly maneuvers his smallish arms to push himself upright, and Dean is there to tug him up the rest of the way.

“Cas, did you hear?” he hisses, none too quietly.

“My, did it have something to do with you screeching ‘girl’ when you ran into me a moment ago?”

Dean rolls his eyes. “C’mon. You’re the eyes and ears of this whole place. Tell me you’ve seen the girl. Where has she gone?”

“Well considering the deal she’s struck with Sam, she’s likely in her rooms, extremely upset. Don’t you go making it—” Dean’s already run off. “—worse.”

Castiel catches up to Dean as he’s knocking on the door of the guest room Castiel had just escorted the girl to half of an hour ago. They can both hear the sound of her crying. Castiel would feel more empathetic if she hadn’t just agreed to trade places with her sister. A prisoner for a prisoner is logical, as is Sam defending himself when a strange woman showed up on his doorstep. They’ve obviously had shit luck with that sort of thing before.

“Mademoiselle,” Dean croons. Castiel resists the urge to bash his head into the nearest wall. “My name is Dean, and I’m out here with my good friend Castiel. Please open the door, we aren’t going to hurt you.” Dean knocks some more, but it doesn’t seem to be getting them anywhere. Castiel is about to warn Dean that they should not barge in on her when Dean pushes the door open with flourish.

Castiel’s respect for the newcomer increases when she flies from the bed to the nightstand and wheels to face them with a large book in her hands, ready to strike. While they’d caught her unawares, the girl is clearly a fighter.

“Oh,” she says, lips parted in surprise. “You’re—. That is—”

“Magical household items, yes, it does seem to be so.” Dean grins at her, his little wax face scrunched up in joy. “I am Dean and this is Castiel.”

“I’m Eileen.” She curtsies, but Castiel gets the impression it is not something that she normally does. Perhaps manners are changing quickly outside of the mansion’s walls. Castiel shudders at the thought. Meanwhile, Dean is inviting Eileen to join them for dinner, which was totally not part of the plan.

“Dean, you heard Sam,” Castiel interjects. The whole the household had heard Sam yelling that if Eileen did not agree to eat with him, she wouldn’t be eating at all.

“Excuse me.” Eileen waves to get their attention. “If you’re not facing me, I cannot understand what you’re saying.”

Oh. That does explain why her inflection seemed a bit off.

“You’re hard of hearing, miss?” Castiel asks.

She nods and begins to sign as she speaks. “My hearing is nearly gone, and you are lucky I can read lips well enough. I’d say I’ll teach you to sign but you haven’t any hands.”

“You are terribly clever, ma’am,” Dean tells her. “I was just telling my old friend here that just because Sam said you couldn’t eat doesn’t mean that we can’t feed you.”

“Oh, is that what all his shouting was about? I got the impression that he wanted me to eat with him, but after he trapped Jo here and then me in her place…” Eileen trails off and wipes at her eyes hurriedly. “No, I don’t much feel like eating with him tonight.”

“Quite right, my dear. Sam can be testy when he’s in a mood. Come now, Cas. We cannot let our guest go hungry. I won’t allow it!” Dean turns his charming smile to Eileen once more. “Follow me, Eileen, we’ll see you fed.”

After whipping the entire kitchen into a frenzy, as Dean is often wont to do, Eileen is settled in a chair eating several small portions prepared just for her. Many of the staff have surrounded her, wildly curious about the second human girl to cross their threshold in such a short amount of time. Eileen of course doesn’t pick up on precisely _why_ they’re all so excited, but she seems entertained nonetheless. Charlotte, better known as Charlie, lounges across the tablecloth right in front of Eileen’s plate, her long red feathers gesticulating as she speaks. Castiel pulls Dean to one side.

“Now that you’ve had your fun, can we be serious for a moment?”

Dean scoffs, his flames dancing. “Calm down Cas, I know you enjoyed that, too. It’s not every day we get to really use our kitchens.”

“That is true, but—”

“Let’s show her around next. If she’s to be staying with us long-term, she ought to know where everything is.”

“Dean, we can’t just disobey Sam and then traipse around—”

“You’ve gotta unwind a little, Cas.” Ah, another clock pun. Castiel wouldn’t admit under pain of death how much he privately enjoys them. “You’re the master of the house.”

“Flattery will get you nowhere.”

“How long has it been since you’ve _properly_ welcomed a guest to Winchester estate?” Dean must know precisely what he’s doing, buttering Castiel up like this. He was a weak man before and he continues to be weak when it comes to letting Dean have whatever he wants.

“Fine.” He sighs. “We’ll show her around.”

Dean taps the glass clockface that serves as, well, his face and smiles brightly. “Lead on!”

:     :     :     :     :

“Help! Somebody help us!”

Castiel rushes down the stairs and into the foyer, where Eileen is staggering through the door with Sam on her back. Dean skids into the room, Charlie and Benny hot on his heels. They all gasp and look to Castiel, who has to shake himself out of the shock.

“Bring him in here, by the fireplace.” Castiel gestures to a sitting room nearby, while Benny rushes to help Eileen carry Sam’s weight with his tall, sturdy frame. Dean lights the fire quickly while Charlie pulls all available cushions to arrange and soft bed. Lisa and Ben arrive on their rolling tray; they must have heard the commotion from several rooms away.

“Good heavens,” Lisa breathes, looking very worried. The water inside her teapot body begins to bubble.

Once Sam has been gently laid down on the nest of pillows and blankets, Dean comes in close. Castiel can see the way his small body is shaking.

“Sammy?” No response, but they can all see the way Sam’s chest is rising and falling. Still alive, then. Dean looks to Eileen with huge, sad eyes. “What happened?”

“I—I ran.” She bites her lip. “When I wandered off on my own I went up some stairs and into another bedchamber.”

“The West Wing?” Ben pipes up. “That’s Master Sam’s rooms, why would you—?” Lisa hushes him quickly.

“Did he say that was Sam’s room?” Dean and Castiel nod. “Oh, well, yes then that makes sense. He—I was looking at this rose he’s got in a glass jar, and he jumped out at me and yelled again. I couldn’t make out anything he was saying, but he was frightening.” Castiel feels for the both of them; Sam was certainly afraid that something would happen to the rose, and Eileen was startled by an enormous, seemingly ferocious beast. She doesn’t know how gentle Sam truly is, only the rage that has settled into his changed form with the passing of each day, bringing them closer to the end. Sam’s temper grows shorter and shorter by the week.

“And then what happened dear?” Charlie prompts Eileen.

“I tried to run, I was out in the forest when I fell. There were these wolves and I—I thought I was done for, but Sam…” She trails off, fingers still, looking at his hairy body on the blankets. “Sam was suddenly there. Fighting. He—he saved me.”

“That’s my Sammy,” Dean whispers, low enough that only Castiel could have heard him.

Lisa, by extension of her own form, moves the serving tray closer to Sam and Eileen, and she indicates the drawers beneath her perch. “There are wash rags in there,” she explains. “And hot water here.” She lifts the lid off of herself. “We should help him clean up.”

Eileen quickly prepares several rags and, with Dean’s help, identifies the worst of the wounds on Sam’s body. Nothing too serious, though she does ask after a sewing kit to fix up a larger gash on his arm. Castiel watches the way Eileen’s hands slowly stop trembling the longer she tends to Sam, the way her face softens the longer she looks at him.

Oh yes. This could very well be a change of plan indeed.

:     :     :     :     :

Dean and Castiel are sitting on the windowsill, watching Sam and Eileen take a walk through the gardens. Sam healed up nicely over a day or two, and now the pair is taking advantage of the sunny winter sky to spend time outdoors. They’d eaten a lunch out there, too, much to the kitchen staff’s delight.

“I can feel it, Cas, something’s different now.”

“I don’t want you to get your hopes up too much, Dean.”

“I’m not! It’s—how can you look at them and not feel even a tiny bit hopeful?”

Castiel sighs. “I do hope, Dean, you know I do. But I want to be realistic. Sam turns twenty-five in two months. How on Earth are we to expect them to fall in love with each other in such a short amount of time?”

“You don’t need a lot of time when it’s the right person,” Dean mutters.

“What was that?”

Dean ignores him, content to watch his brother laugh for the first time in a long while. Castiel wonders about why his heart (which, technically, doesn’t exist) is currently residing in his stomach (which also, technically, doesn’t exist).

The next day, Sam comes bounding up to Castiel with a huge smile on his face.

“Novak! Hey! So get this, Eileen loves books. She _loves_ them. And I was thinking, and I’d like to show her the library. But I never, I mean, I kind of stopped dusting in there a while ago. If I want to reread something, I’d just bring it to my room, and—”

“Say no more, sir.” Castiel allows himself a smile in response to Sam’s. “I will have it ready for you after lunch.”

“Great! Okay!” Sam fidgets, appearing more like a puppy than a beast. “Thanks, Novak.”

“Of course, sir. Go on now, I’ll come for you when it’s time to eat.”

“All right. We may be outside again, in the fresh snow.” Gods above, is Sam’s tail _wagging?_ “See you later!”

Castiel goes immediately to find Dean, and he starts making a list in his head about what all needs to be done to freshen up the library for a guest. It’s true that over the years Sam has read literally every book, and with no means of accessing the neighboring town, there’s nothing to be done about a new selection. So the works that Sam loves best reside permanently in his rooms, while the rest of the staff—particularly those like Dean who cannot touch a book without destroying it—have effectively left the room abandoned. The windows will need to be washed, the floors scrubbed, every surface dusted—

A high-pitched giggle rings out. Castiel turns the corner into the hall just in time to see Charlie as a blur of bright red, disappearing behind a door, and he hesitates.

Dean rounds the opposite corner, candles burning hot. He catches his breath and casts his gaze around the hall, passing over the spot where Castiel is still mostly hidden.

“Charlie,” he calls in a singsong voice. “Where are you, my queen?” A rustle alerts Dean to her hiding spot behind the door, and he runs towards it. She must be quicker than he was anticipating though because Castiel sees her dash out the door again and back the way they came. And Dean chases after her.

Castiel feels frozen, rooted to the spot. If his countdown wasn’t perfect by the nature of his clock form, Castiel would have guessed that the curse had set in and he was now a regular clock. His insides feel molten hot and very heavy. It is difficult to breathe around the lump in his (metaphorical) throat. But he has a job to do. Several, in fact. He’s the physical head of the household while Mister Singer is out of commission and he needs to maintain their routines, to keep Sam and Eileen cared for, and nothing more.

It is not appropriate for butlers to pine after heirs, anyway.

:     :     :     :     :

“Aren’t they somethin’?” Benny sighs, his long wooden body and multiple arms leaning against the wall. Castiel has idly wondered over the years why a coat rack would be made of such a flexible wood but has grown accept it as a facet of the magic.

“Something _amazing,”_ Charlie says excitedly. “This is it. It’s the real deal, I know it!”

“Charlotte,” Castiel chides her. “Don’t speak so loudly, you’ll interrupt them. Besides, we don’t know yet that this will break the—”

“For heaven’s sake, shut up!” Dean waves one flaming hand in their faces.

Ash the grand piano is playing a beautiful dancing tune for Sam and Eileen, the pair twirling around and around each other. Castiel had spent several hours yesterday and today coordinating the staff’s efforts to prepare the perfect ball for two. Cleaning the ballroom, preparing the food, dressing the party-goers, all for this precise moment. Sam’s monstrous paws look almost dainty, one wrapped around Eileen’s waist and the other outstretched to hold her hand. He releases her, lifting their arms so she can spin around, and brings her back to center carefully. Sam always was a good dancer.

Castiel remembers balls hosted by Sam and Dean’s late father when Dean could be seen dancing with many suitable men and women. When Castiel would be firmly reminded that no, he does not get to think on things so high above his station.

Sam and Eileen smile gently at each other, graciously bowing at the end of a string of dances. Sam offers his arm to Eileen, and they exit onto a balcony. Once there, Castiel can see the way they turn towards one another and speak and sign together. Sam’s dedication to learning Eileen’s sign language has been admirable. Clumsy at times, given his altered extremities. But nonetheless, he’s been a devoted student and Eileen a patient teacher.

“What’re they talking about now?” Dean mutters. “That was something about food. Something music.”

“Stop spying on them.” Castiel frowns. “I don’t want him to feel embarrassed.”

“Nonsense, I’ve been embarrassing him his entire life.”

“Regardless,” Castiel continues firmly. “We shouldn’t interrupt them.”

“Do you think Sam will say something to her? About his feelings?”

“I don’t know.” Castiel sighs.

“Okay, well, his birthday is _tomorrow._ If he’s going to make a move, then he really ought to do it quickly.”

“Is he worried about her reaction perhaps?”

Dean looks at him, incredulous. “What? Of course not! There’s no doubt she feels the same.”

“You seem very sure, Dean, but is Sam?” Dean’s mouth opens and closes a few times. “I’m just saying that he may be wary of saying something right now, being rejected—”

“No,” Dean interrupts. “No way she’d reject him. Anyone can see the way she looks at him.”

“Anyone but Sam, perhaps.” Castiel feels tired, abnormal for his wooden state of being. He hops off of the table and makes for the door. Lisa, Benny, and Charlie wave goodbye, but Dean just looks at him. Castiel feels his eyes on him, as if they were human, all the way around his nightly chores.

:     :     :     :     :

“Fuck, fuck, _fuck.”_ Dean’s been cursing profusely for the past several minutes; it’s driving Castiel up the wall. He doesn’t bother asking Dean to be quiet though, he merely continues to organize the members of the staff either as a part of or as the builders of their barricade. “This isn’t going to work.” If Dean had hands, he’d be wringing them.

“With that attitude, certainly not!” Charlie cries from her position near the window. She’s been keeping Castiel and the others aware of the position of the mob outside. She’s one of the few who had had a chance to see Eileen’s sister Jo when she had entered the mansion all those weeks ago. Charlie reported that while Jo is at the front of the group, there’s an older woman who appears to be in charge. They believe this to be Ellen, Eileen and Jo’s mother; she’s been calling to the other villagers about being wary of the beast who resides within. Frankly, she’s not wrong, but she does seem to think that Sam poses a threat to their villagers in a way that wasn’t true two weeks ago, and is even less true now.

Sam has been nothing short of depressed for the past twenty-odd hours, ever since their little ball ended with Eileen’s departure. Castiel had heard about it from Dean later, that Eileen had been speaking with Sam about her family, and that Sam had shown her a peculiar enchanted mirror the staff has rarely touched over the years. Its power is showing the viewer whatever you ask of it and Eileen asked to see her mother. Apparently, the vision had been quite distressing as Eileen had immediately wanted to go to her side. And Sam, well, he’d let her go. Dean’s tone relaying this story was equal parts frustrated and confused.

“I just—I can’t believe he did that! He knew this was the last chance. And he—” Dean had rubbed one wax appendage down his face with a sigh. He looked more tired and sad than Castiel could recall ever seeing him. “She asked him if she could go and he let her. He respected her wishes. He loves her. But then why are we still…?”

“Because he didn’t _say it,_ Dean. Nor did she say it back. Surely that’s a part of this godforsaken curse,” he’d said.

“Who knew _not_ using his words would be Sammy’s problem,” Dean had joked, though his drawn expression betrayed his real feelings. “Cas, I—”

They had been interrupted at that moment by shouting from the staff about the approaching mob. At Castiel’s direction, the staff had swept into action, barricading all doors and bottom-floor windows. Unfortunately, it doesn’t look like their efforts are going to last. Ellen has been instructing the other villagers to hack away at the wooden door with all available tools. Castiel’s mind whirls before he settles on a new plan: fight back. At his command, the rest of the staff hide themselves in plain sight around the foyer and in the first of the rooms the intruders will enter. They wait quietly for several more minutes before both the door and their barricade come crashing down, villagers they’ve not seen in over a decade pouring into the mansion.

At first, all is quiet and still. The crowd appears to be confused, Ellen along with them. Jo looks calculating, her brow furrowed.

Suddenly, Lisa bursts into the hall, her cart’s wheels screeching as she careens into the room.

“Ben?” she shouts. “Ben, where are you? Ben!”

Several things happen in quick succession: Lisa notices the villagers. Several of them get these wide-eyed looks of terror on their faces. Dean yells, “attack!” And the chaos begins.

Due to their stamina as animated furniture, the household staff makes quick work of defending their home and Sam against the mob. They’d been shouting “kill the beast!” outside, and Dean had looked sick to hear it. Sam is, of course, hidden away in his rooms upstairs. No amount of pleading or shouting could convince him to come out.

So when Dean grabs what would pass for Castiel’s arm with a terrified shout, Castiel looks immediately to the stairwell, only to see Ellen’s back moving swiftly up the stairs.

They fly into action, running after her in the direction of the West Wing. Ellen got lucky and found the right hallway and she bursts into Sam’s room, shotgun in hand.

“Finally,” she says. “I can finally confront the beast who harmed _both_ of my daughters.” Dean and Castiel catch up, silently entering the room behind her. “You’ll pay for hurting my family.”

“What do we do?” Castiel feels so helpless, the figures in front of them are towering and Ellen has a _gun_ and what are they going to do to help Sam? Dean is of course as reckless as he is brave, and so he takes off at a run toward Sam’s hulking form, curled into himself in front of an open window.

“Sammy!” he cries.

“What the—?” Before Ellen can finish her question, they all hear a shout from the courtyard outside.

“Sam? _Sam!”_

“Eileen?” For the first time since yesterday, Sam moves with intent and a gleam in his eyes. He leans out of the window and he must see her down there, for he raises his paw in a wave. “Eileen—”

“Leave her alone,” Ellen demands, aiming her gun at Sam’s back. Dean has reached him by now and, lacking other methods, he puts a flame to the bottom of Sam’s foot. Sam leaps like an overgrown cat onto the windowsill. He turns, no doubt ready to ask Dean what on Earth that was about, until he notices the gun being pointed at him. Without another moment to spare, he dives onto the balcony outside. Ellen moves to follow him but Castiel—finally recovered from the shock—leaps into action, sliding his bulky body right into her feet and causing her to stumble and fall to the ground.

“Go, Dean!” he shouts, holding onto the nearest ankle as a means of slowing her progress. Ellen kicks her legs in an attempt to dislodge him but Castiel holds on tightly. The door which had been letting in light from the hallway is suddenly filled with another figure. Castiel vaguely recognizes her, she’s the blonde woman who first wandered into their castle nearly three months ago, who Sam had locked up and Eileen had subsequently released.

“Mom? Mom, Eileen is here,” Jo says. Ellen manages to fling Castiel in the direction of Sam’s bed and he collides hard enough to knock a few gears loose. “You said she was too terrified, too out of her mind to set foot here again, but she’s back and calling the beast by name. What—?”

“Your sister _is_ out of her mind, Jo. That thing must have bewitched her, like his furniture, don’t you see? I have to free her.” Ellen strides to the window and looks around before swinging her legs over and running out onto the balcony after Sam. Jo lets out a frustrated noise and makes to follow her, but she pauses. She casts her gaze around the room before settling on Castiel’s somewhat crumpled form on the floor. Hesitantly, Jo walks over to him and crouches, peering at him.

“What are you?” she asks. “What is this place?”

 _There’s really nothing to lose in telling her the truth,_ Castiel thinks. _However this ends, it will end tonight._ “We were cursed years ago by a powerful sorceress. This used to be a family estate, one of the heirs is your so-called beast.”

“And you, too? Transformed from a human into a clock?” Jo asks. Castiel nods in response.

A gunshot rings out, startling both Castiel and Jo. She picks him up, carrying them both on swift feet to the window and out, first to the balcony at this window, and then crossing the east side of the mansion to reach the balcony overlooking the garden. Castiel is a little miffed at being _carried_ like a child, but at least now he is able to see his fam—his friends. The fight had moved the pair around several balconies and even up onto the roof, by the look of the destroyed shingles. He breathes a sigh of relief that it appears that the gunshot they’d heard had been aimed into the air instead of at Sam.

“You stay away from her,” Ellen growls. She takes one menacing step toward Sam where he is standing partially in front of Eileen, one arm out as if to shield her. Castiel can’t locate Dean right now and his fear ratchets up another notch. “Get away, beast,” Ellen says.

“Mom.” Eileen is breathing heavily with exertion; she must have scaled the garden wall while Castiel was still inside, meeting Sam here at this balcony—the same one where they had sat after their ball, which seems like a lifetime ago now. “Mom, please, you don’t—”

“Eileen, come over here,” Ellen interrupts. She’s clutching the gun and can’t use her hands to sign, but she makes eye contact and enunciates clearly. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“But mom,” Jo says, too frightened, Castiel thinks, to try and sign. “It’s a curse. He’s just told me, they’re cursed—”

“I can see that they’re cursed and now they’ve cursed Eileen. Go and fetch your sister, Joanna Beth.”

“Don’t—”

“Run!” In a tiny but fiery blaze, Dean throws himself from a nearby ledge onto Ellen’s arm and shoulder. She shrieks and fires the weapon in her hands. Castiel’s eyes fly to Sam and Eileen standing at the railing, to the new red spot on Sam’s chest over his heart.

Jo moves to her mother, putting out the flames, while Dean leaps to the ground and runs to Sam. Castiel lies where he’d been dropped, panic rising in his chest. _Sam…_

“Sam? Sam!” Both Dean and Eileen are calling to him. They manage to help him lie down, Dean curled over Sam’s side to examine the injury, and Eileen half-lying next to him, her hand on his cheek.

“Sam,” she says, her voice choked with emotion.

“Eileen.” Sam pushes his fingers into her long dark hair. “You came back.”

“Of course I came back,” Eileen says forcefully. Whatever she says next is lost to Castiel, who suddenly has Dean in his face. If a candelabra could cry, Dean certainly is.

“Cas! Cas, get Benny up here. We’ve gotta move him inside, and get the first aid supplies.”

“Dean—”

 _“No,_ do not look at me like that. He’s going to be fine! He’s—”

“Dean.” Castiel grips Dean’s metal arms tightly. “It’s no use. And frankly, there’s no time.” His internal timer for the last rose petal is perfect, and it will come any minute now. Dean struggles in his hold.

“Don’t say that. It’s—he’s—” They pause, hearing Sam’s next words clearly.

“At least I got to see you one last time.” Sam’s hand falls from where it had been cupping Eileen’s cheek, his labored breathing slowing and slowing until it stops. Dean goes very still. They watch as Eileen puts a hand to her mouth, shaking her head back and forth, her tears flowing freely.

“No, _no,”_ she sobs, and Castiel can feel the echo of it in Dean’s body. He’s shaking and angry and so scared, and Castiel can do nothing to help him. Eileen is muttering to Sam, half-speaking and half-signing, when suddenly she says aloud, “I love you.” Those are the words that they have been praying to hear for thirteen years, and they’ve come a moment too late. Castiel feels the gears in his chest shifting, acknowledging that the last rose petal has fallen. Dean slumps against him, utterly defeated. What will happen to them all now?

Suddenly, a familiar golden glow appears at Sam’s abdomen. It encircles him and slowly expands outward.

“Eileen, get away!” Ellen shouts from the other side of the balcony. She’s clutching her burnt arm to her chest, with Jo holding her upright. Jo doesn’t look afraid, just stunned. Castiel glances at Dean, whose eyes are wide, before looking at Sam once more. Then the light grows larger, incredibly bright and burning, the same burning from that fateful night. Castiel’s limbs are tingling, blood pumping through his veins and roaring in his ears. He worries briefly that they are dying, and then it all stops.

A very human Dean Winchester is sprawled on top of him. Castiel has only one moment to think about the fact that they are lying chest to chest before he realizes that he is human, too.

Dean picks his head up off of Castiel’s shoulder with a groan, green eyes fluttering open. When they meet Castiel’s, they blink and grow wide with disbelief. Castiel watches Dean take in his face, his _human_ face, and the smile that blooms across Dean’s features is more beautiful than any sight.

“Cas, you’re you! And I’m—” Dean seems to realize the position that they are in, rolling his shoulders to bring both arms up, putting his forearms on either side of Castiel’s head and propping himself up. Castiel is now able to take a full breath into his _human_ lungs. “We’re _human,_ Cas, what—” Dean’s head shoots up and he looks to the left, remembering the light from Sam’s body.

Sam is now standing upright (and is extremely tall, as it turns out) and kissing Eileen with fervor. Their arms are locked around one another, golden light still swirling around them.

Dean looks back down at Castiel, his features absolutely joyful. “Cas, it worked! It happened! They broke the curse. It’s finally over.”

:     :     :     :     :

Castiel stands off to the side of the stage, where Ash and some local musicians from the village are playing a lively dancing tune. The whole ballroom has been transformed, along with every other part of the mansion since the curse was broken. The magic had given their home a slightly scary appearance overall, and this seems to have been lifted along with their inanimate forms. They had all aged right along with Sam over the years, and many are still struggling to get used to their new bodies. Lisa—Mrs. Braeden is prone to tears anytime she looks at her son, now built like a fourteen-year-old instead of the child she’d once held. Robert has numerous complaints about his joints and his back and keeps insisting that he will retire soon and promote Castiel to steward.

The ballroom itself had been filled with fresh flowers, the windows open to the sunlight, and people had filled the whole room, staff and villagers alike. The broken curse had also restored their memories; those who were old enough to know about the Winchester family, people like Pastor Jim who had known John and Mary but weren’t at the mansion that evening had numerous questions. What had happened? Why had a sorceress done this to them? Dean—Master Winchester had taken on the responsibility of fielding all these questions, because Sam has been otherwise occupied.

At this moment, he and Eileen are twirling around the ballroom, lost in the other’s gaze. They hardly do anything else, and it makes meals take even longer as there will inevitably be a spill (Sam is still learning how to hold utensils again).

Ellen had a change of heart after what she’d seen on the balcony. They hadn’t lived in the village back then so they had no erased memories of this place, but she says that the only thing powerful enough to do the magic that she’s witnessed here in true love. And she’d be right about that.

Castiel sighs, straightening his tie and running his hand down over the buttons of his vest before tucking the arm back behind himself and clasping his hands. He is ready to serve, do his duty as butler and servant of the Winchester family; he is grateful for his position and life and should not dwell on things that no longer matter. Things that mattered only to him.

De— _Master Winchester_ appears at his elbow, and Castiel makes a mental note to practice using Dean’s proper title as often as necessary to ensure he will not slip up in verbal conversation.

“Sir,” Castiel greets. “Is everything to your liking?”

“I—” Dean hesitates. “I suppose things are as they should be. That is, things are the way that my father would have wanted them to be. Back to the way they were, and all that.”

Castiel feels a frown creep over his features. “Indeed, sir, back to business. Though now I dare say we will have a wedding to plan for the fall. Or perhaps they would prefer to wait for spring?”

Dean shrugs, clearly attempting to watch the dancing and also look at Castiel. Is there something wrong with his uniform?

“Sir?”

“Uh.” Dean shifts his weight over his feet and clears his throat. “Please call me Dean.”

Castiel can’t help it, his jaw drops. _“Sir.”_

“C’mon, Cas.” Dean laughs lightly but he looks somewhat nervous. “You’ve only been our butler for the past _fifteen years._ Surely you are allowed to use given names and all that.”

“I—I would _never_ make such an assumption.” Castiel feels his cheeks burn with flush. He would never consider overstepping his boundaries to such a degree, given names are never to be used by staff, only by fam—

“Cas?” Dean has turned his body to face Castiel, his chest emanating warmth that Castiel can feel through the sleeves of his jacket and his shirt. He lowers his voice. “We made a good team, you and I. I was just a child when the curse struck but I’m nearly thirty now. And you with, what, two more winters? Three?” Castiel hums, not sure where Dean is going with this. His eyes stay resolutely on the dancers. On Sam and Eileen and _their_ happy ending. “You… do you understand what I am asking?”

“Master Winchester, I hardly—”

“Novak!”

Castiel has to firmly remind himself of his position and their current situation at a formal party and that it is not appropriate to glare at people who wish to speak with him.

“Yes, Ms. Bradbury?”

Charlie responds with a very theatrical curtsy for him and another for Dean. “My good sirs. You do realize you’re the only ones not out there dancing, right?”

“Of course.” Castiel swallows harshly. “I shan’t keep you, Master Winchester. Please enjoy your—”

“Uh, _no,_ Cas.” Dean huffs. “Charlie, a moment?”

Her eyes flicker between the two of them and it makes Castiel want to sink into the floor. She turns and moves back to the center of the whirling group. Villagers and servants, reconnecting and celebrating, smiling and dancing. Castiel feels an ache in his chest that he’d thought he’d long since squashed out of existence. Evidently, loneliness is chronic.

“You didn’t need to excuse her, sir, you—”

“Cas, stop this. _Please.”_ Dean steps in front of Castiel, ducking his head so they are truly face to face. “If you… If I’m overstepping I need you to tell me. Look at me and tell me that what we’ve shared is over now.”

“Sh—shared?”

“Yes, Cas. Every good memory I have of this past decade includes you. I only survived this because you were right there beside me and I—” Dean bites his lip, his hands awkwardly moving from his sides to behind his back up to his own tie down to his sides again. “Cas, am I alone in this? Or do you feel what I feel?”

Castiel’s heart is a purebred stallion galloping through his chest. Feel? What does _Dean_ feel?

“I—.” He struggles to know what to say. “I feel that we—we worked well together. That is until Robert does retire and I am to be the steward of your house—”

“Damn it, Cas, I’m not talking about the house or about your duties or my inheritance. I’m talking about my heart.” Dean brings his hands up to rest on his own chest. “I—Cas, I—”

“My heart,” Castiel repeats. He’s breathless, hopeful. “You—your heart is… That is to say—”

“I’m in love with you,” Dean admits. Castiel closes his eyes, subtly curious whether or not he is hallucinating. “It may not be ‘the way things were’ and it may not be proper but Cas I can’t go one more second without telling you, without knowing—”

“It would be very improper for a senior staff member to engage in a relationship with—”

“I can’t imagine pretending I don’t care for you—”

“What would your father think—?”

“I don’t care what the neighbors or anyone else thinks—”

“I tried to keep it hidden, and I truly have no desire to upset Ms. Bradbury, it’s—”

“Wait, hush, what about Charlie?” Dean places one finger under Castiel’s chin, and it’s the most intimate interaction they’ve ever shared. “I yearned for you for so long it’s a small wonder I never burned down any rooms in this place. Anytime I spoke to Charlie about you we walked out into the yard because then I could stand away from anything flammable. You… My very soul has burned for you for years, Cas. I’ve worried terribly about whether you would perceive any action on my part, any voicing of my intentions as an abuse of our positions. I would never—” Dean emphasizes his point by moving his hand from Castiel’s chin to his shoulder, fingers grasping the fabric of Castiel’s uniform. “—take advantage of you. If I have made you uncomfortable, I will do all in my power to ease your suffering. I'll write you a recommendation so you can run a new household somewhere far away. I would do anything to ensure your comfort and safety, Cas. If—”

“Well, there is certainly no need for such dramatics.” Castiel releases his hands from where he’d been clutching them behind his back, holding his own fingers so tightly the blood loss was starting to make itself known. He creates two loose fists and, slowly, he raises them to Dean’s chest, taking one careful step toward him. Dean’s face is openly joyful. “I… would be remiss not to inform you that I, despite giving myself several stern reminders that this would be _impossible,_ have found myself utterly enchanted by you for many years.”

“Wow,” Dean breathes. He’s smiling so wide Castiel thinks that his cheeks might hurt. Then again, he can feel a smile growing on his own face, small and shy to start but Dean’s is contagious. “I… Can I kiss you?”

Castiel freezes. “Here? Now? In front of all of these people?”

Dean turns to cast a glance over his shoulder. Castiel looks and sees Charlie spinning on Sam’s arm, wearing matching knowing grins. They wave, followed by Charlie blowing a kiss and Sam giving them a thumbs up.

“Something tells me that the people who matter won’t mind.” Dean turns back to face him, and it’s as if the party melts away. The music is muted here, the corner at Castiel’s back, Dean’s body covering his front. He’s so warm and he smells so good, it would be so easy just to bury himself in Dean’s embrace and never come back out. “If you’re not sure—”

“I am very sure that you should kiss me right now Dean Winchester.” Castiel uses his hands on Dean’s chest to draw their bodies closer together, and Dean responds by circling his arms around Castiel’s waist. They exhale with foreheads touching, noses bumping.

With one more look into Castiel’s eyes, Dean tilts forward to press their lips together. Castiel never imagined, could never have dreamt that this would be so sweet. The gentle push of Dean’s mouth on his is a revelation. The movement of Dean’s hands, one to his lower back and one to the back of his head, grounds him in a moment that would otherwise put him at risk to float away. He’s weightless and soaring through the sky; he is held safely in Dean’s embrace. In the years to come, Castiel will reflect on the moments where a curse also contained a blessing. His biggest reward? The very same thing that came to Sam Winchester, altering the course of their lives forever: true love.

**Author's Note:**

> If you liked this or have any thoughts please leave a comment! You can also message me on tumblr. I love writing AUs and this one was truly magical. ;)
> 
> [on tumblr](http://profound-boning.tumblr.com/post/165484709364/)


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